 | Loading up in Boulder. |
 | Steph betrays her Wisconsonian roots at the Breckenridge base, with the cows
and the booze. |
 | John, our parking-lot neighbor, shows us how the experts do it. (He's passing
time until he heads up at noon to clip a ticket and ride.) |
 | The back-country hut is regularly served by the ski bus. |
 | Chuck, Steph, Karl, and me. Joining us the next night will be John, Al, and
Amy. |
 | After riding the bus to Breck, we head up the trail to the hut (~ 5 miles). |
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 | The many faces of Karl Kellogg. |
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 | Nearing the hut... |
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 | Chuck gets started on (and finishes) the Trader Joe's liqueur... |
 | Dinner 1: garlic bread, mulled wine, and a 9-lb lasagne packed on dry ice. |
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 | Teeth are brushed in parallel. |
 | Steph looks all sultry with her toothbrush and that sexy Nalgene... |
 | Chuck's pants lie almost aflame. |
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 | In the morning, Steph expresses exactly how she feels about her swedish pancakes. |
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 | Chuck breaks out the 7:30 AM Kahlua Especial. |
 | Matt and ? sit at the table, observed by Herb and Francie on the wall. (The
hut is named for Francie; the sauna is named after Herb, who died several years
later.) |
 | A person with an unknown name enjoys breakfast after her first hut trip. |
 | In full-color, Steph is now more emotional about those pancakes. |
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 | Sandy maps while skins dry. |
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 | The four of us set out up the canyon for some day-trippin'. |
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 | Steph points (but at what?) |
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 | Check out that beard! |
 | Steph at the base of our first descent. |
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 | OK, now there's a lot of photos of all of us skiing. It really was a fabulous
day. I know there's too many photos, but just make a little flip-book of them
(or click quickly), and they'll make a sweet movie, guaranteed. |
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 | Carl starts to lose it... |
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 | Check out that powder! |
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 | Steph, Chuck, and their skins coordinate very well. |
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 | Top of the next run. |
 | Whoa! OK, so this is the ptarmigan that I apparently skiied right over as I
descended. It squawked and ran about 15' once I'd cleared the area. The
white-on-white coloring is no doubt of some evolutionary advantage, but it's a
hindrance as far as skiier-bird collisions go. |
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 | We left the hut in good hands; unfortunately, it's listing significantly upon
our return. |
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 | Chuck finishes off the remaining 7 pounds of lasagne. |
 | Back out again... |
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 | By Saturday PM, John/Al/Amy have arrived. John dishes up the linguini as we
return from more runs, but not without a trip through the wood-fired sauna. |
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 | Steph has been re-born. |
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 | I attempt table bouldering just before Chuck peels off the hands, upgrading the
route to a IIIi/T7+ (Mh). |
 | Icicles outside, passing through the reflected window. |
 | Matt strums. |
 | Karl sleeps. |
 | Steph brushes. |
 | Karl sleeps some more. |
 | Amy boggles. |
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 | Steph lays. |
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 | Chuck lunches. |
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 | Lounging after lunching. |
 | Back in Breck... |
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 | The requisite post-hutting fluid replenishment. |
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 | Whoa! That's the sun, behind an icy lenticular cloud that's been following us
nearly all the way from Berck to Evergreen. No color enhancement -- that's the
real thing. |
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 | Kaia feels very foreshortened. |
 | We drive and photograph, although the division of responsibilities is not
entirely clear.
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